


This Time Around (It'll Probably be the Same)

by dizzy



Category: Farscape RPF, Stargate SG-1 RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-18
Updated: 2009-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-03 07:35:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patterns and cycling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Time Around (It'll Probably be the Same)

It's storming when they meet this time. It isn't the first three-star hotel to be graced with their presence and it probably won't be the last. The walls of the room are beige and the bed is a double with unimpressive sheets and a scratchy comforter.

They sit at the desk beside a wide, tall window and drink coffee. At first it's just talking. It's been a few months since they've seen each other last.

"It's weird, it's like this pattern, or something," Ben says. One hand is around his Starbucks cup, the other resting atop Claudia's. "After a month or two, bam, you're just in my head all the time."

"Yeah..." Claudia smiles and looks at the table, the distance of polished wood between them. "Me, too."

"I thought it was supposed to go away." Ben says, still watching her. "I thought it would just kind disappear after a while. Out of sight, out of mind. But apparently... distance makes the heart grow fonder."

"Yeah," She sighs. She presses three fingertips against her cup, pushes the coffee away. "Me, too."

*

It's a cliche for her to say that he's the best she's ever had, but it's true. At first she thought that it was just because it was an affair. They held out for so long, fought it tooth and nail. Months - years - of delicious tension building, so many near-accidents, all leading up to an explosive consummation of mutual attraction and genuine fondness. Like the song goes, she'd thought, it was just one of those things. It'd burn itself out and become just a guilty memory.

But it didn't burn itself out. A heated encounter became a heated affair. He started to be the thing she looked forward to most.

*

Ben falls asleep on his back, mouth slightly open and one arm wrapped around her. She rests her head on his chest, lays her hand over his heartbeat. It's a silly thing to do, but it eases her nerves. This is not the man she comes home to at the end of the day, but he is the thought that keeps her warmed on cold days. She loves him, she thinks, crazily and stupidly and there's little that she would ever deny him and she thanks her lucky stars that he's smart enough not to ask for too much.

*

He wakes her just after midnight, mouthing kisses against her shoulder as his cock presses into her hip. She slings one leg over his thigh and presses against him, feels the hardness rubbing against her most sensitive places. She whimpers, catches his mouth, buries her fingers in his hair. It's fluid by now; the kind of familiarity that comes with knowing someone's body well but there's still some spark under the surface. There's passion in heaps, unbelievable story-book passion, with a little bit of tragedy thrown just to make her savor it all the more.

"Stop thinking," he says, nosing at her temple. His fingers tangle in her hair.

"I'm," she starts. "I'm not... you're the one that thinks too much."

"Lies," he pushes her over and then slides on top of her. His fingers pluck at her nipples and he watches the tension vibrate through her.

"Patterns," she lifts herself up on her elbows and kisses him thoroughly, her tongue in his mouth. "Always seeing patterns and cycles, never just letting it happen."

"I need patterns," he says, and returns the kiss with lips hard on hers. "I need to know we'll keep circling around each other. Keep cycling."

"Why can't you just ask?" She spreads her legs and with a guiding hand, he is inside of her.

"Ask... ask-" His words skitter to a stop as he sinks down. "Oh, Christ, Claud, it never stops feeling good."

"Ask me if we'll keep... cycling." She lets her head hit the pillow again and pushes her hips up into his.

"Will we?" He says, eyes staring into hers the color of ice but oh, so warm.

She waits to answer, waits so long that he thinks she isn't going to and he's starting to get that knot in his stomach feeling. His head drops to her shoulder and he kisses the pale skin there. "Yes," she gasps, prelude to an orgasm but with added meaning. "We'll, oh, always. We'll always-"

"Yeah," he groans into her ear. "Fuck, yeah."

He slides off of her, leaving her damp with sweat and sticky between the thighs. Sleep beckons too sweetly for her to move just now and his weight against her is comfortable.


End file.
